


Come Home

by lowtides



Series: fc5 writing prompts [2]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Enemies With Benefits, F/M, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 14:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16915005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowtides/pseuds/lowtides
Summary: Rook thinks that maybe sleeping with the enemy was a bad idea after all.





	Come Home

**Author's Note:**

> another short fic done for the hozier lyrics meme! the prompt lyrics for this were _"Honey, please, try to love me."_

In retrospect, Rook shouldn’t have let this fling continue for as long as it has. It should have been a one-and-done kind of thing—fuck, it should have never happened _at all_. If anyone actually found out what was going on, Rook would probably become as vilified as the Seeds. As vilified as the Seed she’s trapped in this cabin with.

Well, not _trapped_. Not quite stuck either. She’s free to move, nothing holding her back, but situationally— _emotionally—_ she’s fucking stuck.

Because Jacob fucking Seed has trapped her into this conversation. Jacob fucking Seed is, for some absurd reason, trying to _define the relationship_.

“I don’t understand,” Rook says, hastily sitting up on the bed. “What do you want from me?”

She leans over the edge of the bed, snagging her discarded shirt off the pile of clothes on the floor. There’s a rustle of fabric behind Rook—Jacob shifting around on the bed. She pays no mind to it as she puts her shirt on. When she starts to lean over again to pick up her jeans, the mattress dips close behind her as Jacob is suddenly there, bare chest rumbling against Rook’s back and his mouth murmuring right above her ear. “Want you to come to the Veterans Center.”

“So I can starve and turn into your mindless soldier,” Rook scoffs as Jacob’s hands snake around her. One scarred arm curls around her waist, hiking up the hem of her shirt. The other hand follows the length of her arm until it finds her own hand, wrapping around the base of her palm and shaking her jeans from her grip. It’s all too intimate for what they’ve been doing. Rook tries to hide the sudden shakiness of her voice. “No thanks, I’ll pass on that. Doesn’t sound like a good time.”

“Could show you a good time,” Jacob muses, “if you stay with me.”

“You asking me to _move in_ with you, Seed?” Rook asks, incredulous. “I don’t even like you.”

“Really, now?” he murmurs, dipping down so the words graze the sensitive skin of her neck.

“You don’t even like me,” Rook snorts, trying not to shiver. “This is just sex. We both know that. For fuck’s sake, it shouldn’t have even gone on for this long.”

Jacob goes still behind her. “It shouldn’t have, huh?”

“No, it shouldn’t have,” she states. “Obviously you’ve forgotten what this is or something, because I’m not just gonna _live_ with you at the Veterans Center where you _brainwash_ people just because I think you have a nice dick.”

Rook tries to worm out of Jacob’s grasp, but Jacob holds her firmly around the waist and pulls her back into the bed.

“I know exactly what this is, Deputy,” Jacob growls, rolling on top of her. He locks her down with his weight—not that she’s really trying to get out—and buries his forearm into the pillow beside her head to prop himself up over her. He dips down to kiss her, sloppy and wet. Rook responds enthusiastically. Kissing him is nice, and it’s even better now because it puts a pause on the uncomfortable conversation.

Jacob releases her waist and his hand drifts up to clutch her face, thumb and fingers digging into her cheeks, opening her mouth wider to him as he kisses her lazily. Rook combs her fingers through the patches of soft red hair on his chest, dragging her hands up to tangle in the hair on his head. Jacob lets go of her face and trails his hand down her body. He paws at one of her breasts through her shirt, garnering a soft moan from Rook, then his hand drifts down down down, calloused fingers slipping underneath the elastic of her underwear.

“I could just bring you to the compound myself,” Jacob hums against the corner of her mouth. He drags his fingers up and down her folds, petting her while she’s already wet. Rook frowns at him, at his words, but rolls her hips into his hand. Jacob ignores the frown on her face and starts dragging his mouth across her throat, beard scraping her skin raw as he kisses and nips at her.

“You’re not taking me to your _lair_ ,” Rook hisses, but the spite in her voice is drowned out by the moan that soon follows when Jacob slips a thick finger into her. “I’m not gonna be your fucking mistress or something.”

Jacob leaves her neck, leaning back up to hover over her. His eyes turn dark as he slips another finger in and she starts grinding against his hand. His voice is like gravel. “You wouldn’t be there as a soldier—not gonna fuckin’ chain you to my bed either. Though, that does paint a pretty picture.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk when Rook cants her hips up and glares at him, cheeks burning. It’s getting hard to split her focus into this stupid conversation and the third finger he’s pushing into her.

Rook gasps and her eyes almost roll back, but she reels herself back in to glare _hard_ at Jacob and squeezes his arm, hoping her nails bite down into his skin and draw blood. “You—fuck, you’re such an asshole. I don’t care if,” she interrupts herself with a frantic breath as the base of Jacob’s palm starts to grind against her clit, “if— _fuck—_ I’ll be your equal or something. I don’t want—”

Jacob stops his ministrations, eyeing her with a fascination as she whines and tries to make up for the lack of movement with a thrust of her hips. It’s not enough. The look on Jacob’s face is taunting—almost smug. “You don’t want what?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Rook groans, hands miserably pawing at his chest, his arms. “Come on, _fine_ , I want it, I want it.”

“Want what?” Jacob asks again, picking up the pace with his fingers, then grinding his palm against her clit again when she moans harder. Fuck, it feels so _good_ , Rook can feel the pleasure curling in her belly. “You want me? Want me to take care of you, want me to touch you like this?”

“Want you—” Rook gasps, hands fisting the bedsheets. “Want you to stop—being such a dick. Just— _fuck_.”

“You want nice? _Sweet?_ Want me to beg for you?” Jacob hums, hot breath fanning across her face. He grinds against her clit harder, faster, crooking his fingers inside of her. His tone is cruel, mocking, and it only takes Rook further. “Want me to say, _honey,_ please, try to _love_ me?”

Rook pants hard, thighs clenching and he grinds faster and faster. He’s still _talking_ and Rook doesn’t know how much longer she can pay attention to his words. She’s so focused on the hand on her, the fingers inside her, the _growl_ to the voice above her. Jacob leans down closer, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Because you’re not gonna get that. You’ll come home to me because you _know_ that’s where you belong. With _me._ You can’t escape it, Deputy, you think there’s anyone left out there in his bumfuck county who makes you come the way I do?”

She feels herself coiling up, shaking with it. “Jacob—just—”

Jacob nips at her earlobe, his scraping teeth leaving the skin there buzzing. He crooks his fingers inside her once more, his scratched out voice low and breathy in her ear. “Come on, sweetheart. Come for me, that’s what you do—you’ll come.”

Rook’s eyes roll back, gasping and pulling at the sheets as she comes. Jacob’s still murmuring things in her ear, but she can’t make sense of it. She chokes out a few more gasps as she shuts her eyes and rides out the release, biting down hard on her bottom lip.

After a few breaths of laying boneless, her whole body buzzing, she blinks up at Jacob who’s still looming over her. The smug look is gone, replaced by something lustful. He slides his fingers out of her to lick and suck her slick off his hand like he’s finishing a meal.

He looks at her expectantly, and for a moment Rook thinks of sliding down and returning the favor—but she realizes that’s not what he’s waiting for. This is still about the Veterans Center. She brings her hand up to rest on the side of his face, brushing against the fuzz of his beard.

“I’ll think about it,” she says.


End file.
